


Your love (like the ocean) a full-on embrace

by tetsuskitten



Series: Being and Becoming [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blind Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsuskitten/pseuds/tetsuskitten
Summary: Koutarou and Tetsurou begin a new life in Paradise island, but soon Tetsurou's sight gives out and they must learn how to deal with it.





	Your love (like the ocean) a full-on embrace

The ocean water, crystal clear, was where they now spent most of their days. The waves tired them out in such a way that they talked in hushed tones when coming back to their towels, sprawled open and vulnerable to the harsh and warm rays of the sun. 

They learned to be quiet, reverting back to a purer state of being, feeling lulled by the ocean every hour of the day, sleeping like babies in the dead silence of the night except for the constant crashing of the waves close by.  The lights shimmered down at sea, rays of sun reflected on the surface of the water gave the illusion of time speeding up, but on the scalding sand the people moved in slow motion, lost in the heaviness of their bodies, sluggish, deeply rooted inside themselves, taking a long nap inside the quiet of their own mind.

Their life took a dreamy shine to it, like it couldn’t be quite real, feeling more like a slippery hallucination than a solid existence.   
In the mornings, they bit into fresh fruit, sugary and juicy, the liquid dripping from their hands and chins. Couldn't remember ever being this hungry or this sated afterwards. At lunch, fish caught only the day before, grilled and delicious. At night, they got drunk with a sweet mix of drinks that left their mouths tingling and their senses hazy and sensitive. Not many days went by before they fell into each other, buzzed and vibrating, ocean hungry and chasing the salt from each other's lips.   
  
"Do you think now that we have a calm life we can have a calm...." Koutarou hesitated, not knowing how to phrase this slow heat, the drunken nights, the frantic kisses, the beach days, the wholesome meals, the small Paradise life they seem to have been granted, albeit undeserving of it. "...everything else."   
  
"I'll still make fun of your sea hair curls."   
  
"And I your dog paddle swimming."   
  
"We'll hold hands and drink wine..."   
  
"..and kiss ourselves dizzy."   
  
"And we'll make up for time lost."  _ And the love we never had. _   


Sometimes they had conversations like this. Uncharacteristic. Words that belonged to someone else that could not be them. Because if anything they were supposed to kiss roughly and bite each other’s head off. Violent men and their violent ways. Yet, they behaved like a married couple on a retirement vacation and they knew this, they knew they were drifting away from themselves and it felt good to get to do normal things for once, to answer to their desires and see that they were true and matched by the other. 

It wasn't just the being someone else, but the taking up things that never seemed to fit them in their old life. Cops weren't known for sensibility, and yet, Koutarou felt like a cop no longer. Whatever he had been it felt like a lifetime ago since then. One day, he decided to pick up a piece of paper and buy a pencil from the corner shop. He let his head fill up like the tides, thoughts of Tetsurou and little else. Stripped away of ambitions or a need to make a living, he could just let himself be and what he was surprised him. Just a man, it turns out, who had love in him he couldn't have guessed existed in such rich amounts.    
  
"Tetsu." He called to the other man who was sitting on the porch, looking down at the night sea. He wrapped his strong arms around the other's neck from behind and felt Tetsurou's head fall back, resting on his chest. He took the opportunity to skim his fingers through the messy salt laced hair and Tetsurou closed his eyes in appreciation.    
  
"Listen." He whispered and just before he began reading in hushed tones he planted a kiss on Tetsurou's temple, next to the nasty looking bullet scar that barely showed under his dark hair.

 

_ Your love, like the ocean, is a full on embrace.  _ __  
_ Powerful, unrelenting, forceful. _ __  
_ And yet - it sings me to sleep every night, waves crashing in time with your breathing. _ __  
__  
_ And I've never been much of a poet, but it's never too late _ __  
_ To give beauty or love a try _ __  
_ And just in case you won't be able to read this _ __  
_ I'll have to put in the effort and learn how to recite _ __  
_ How to curl my tongue around words like a finger on a gun _ __  
_ Shoot them straight at your heart _ __  
__  
_ Crystal shatter, I love that sound _ __  
_ Thunderbolts and ten feet tall waves,  _ __  
_ Our bodies crashing together _ __  
_ You, naked, having lost your crown. _ __  
__  
_ You're walking towards something you won't come back from, _ __  
_ Listen, reach out your hand anytime _ __  
_ I'll be there on the other end _ __  
_ Eager, waiting, waiting, waiting _ __  
_ To be touched _ _  
_ __ By your sure fire hands.

 

“Who wrote that?” Tetsurou asked, because of course, he would never guess Koutarou could write, but he could guess he liked poetry, it wasn’t so far-fetched. As a way of answering, Koutarou handed him the piece of paper, a few smudges on it, slightly wrinkled, striked out words, messy handwriting and then the little signature at the bottom, just his first name.

Tetsurou extended his neck further back to look at Koutarou, disbelieving and then he straightened up and read through the paper again and once more to be sure and suddenly, the words gained an entire different feel to them, as if he could feel them in his skin, crawling under and scratching at his heart.

“You’re hiding talents away from me.”

“I’m not. I’d never written before.”

“Maybe they were right after all.” 

“Who?”

“The poets. And their love ballads. Can’t be a poet without passion.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Koutarou’s hands dipped lower, roaming Tetsurou’s body, falling under the soft fabric of his shirt to touch the taut skin beneath it, impossibly warm. Tetsurou let his head fall back once more, placing the paper on the table and letting himself feel the way Koutarou slicked his hair back and yanked before straddling him, falling heavily onto his lap and leaning down unrushed, open mouthed kisses revealing the traces of salt left on their lips, tongues chasing it away, wet and wanting.   
  
"Have we done it here yet, looking at the ocean?" Tetsurou questioned, tracing the muscles on Koutarou’s back, hard and yet relaxed.   
  
"The neighbours." Koutarou answered, in way of explaining that no, they in fact hadn't.   
  
"We will." He promised, lifting Koutarou up onto the table, rapidly moving the paper away from his heavy body and splaying him out for thorough appreciation. It wasn’t that he was into voyeurism but fucking Koutarou right here, the breeze cooling their sweaty bodies, the sounds he made muffled by the roaring sea, was too good a thing to say no to. Especially if he was saying no to himself. He could hardly deny himself this life’s pleasures, not now, not anymore, not when Koutarou’s eyes were shining and impossibly golden, their only rival the sunset itself. There is something magical about Islands and the way they close you off from the world and introduce you back to yourself. And Tetsurou could live happily with this version of himself.  
  


 

  
He woke up to another day, seemingly like any other, except for that slight shift in reality. He blinked his eyes open. And then again. And again. But no matter how many times he blinked there was nothing beyond a deep blackness. He hesitantly touched his fingertips to his eyes, making sure they were open, knowing they were and yet. He felt the bed for Koutarou but he couldn't find him, no matter how far he reached. And that, on top of his inevitable truth, sent his mind spiralling into a panic attack.   
  
"Koutarou." he called, barely a whisper, fear blanketing his mind as much as the darkness blanketed his eyes. "Koutarou! Koutarou, where are you?!" He called louder into the house and almost immediately heard the screech of a chair dragging across the floor, hurried footsteps getting louder as they approached, his name being called in a worried tone and suddenly Koutarou was there, touching his hands gently which were still clinging to his eyes and bringing them back down. He thought that Koutarou must have understood.    
  
"I'm right here. I'm sorry, Tetsu, I'm right here." He heard him say from close by, probably right in front of him, probably, but how would he know now?   
  
Silent tears began filling up Tetsurou's eyes and he felt as the water grew and grew before the barrage of his eyes couldn’t hold it anymore. His tears were warm and salty and wet and when was the last time he cried? He faintly remembered childhood, scraped knees, bandages. His career choice wasn’t exactly one for people who cried easily or often, and he didn’t. Now though, it seemed like emotion was punching a hole right through and it felt overwhelming and breathtaking, he felt he was choking on air, taking rapid breaths which he could barely control. But Koutarou was there, wiping away his falling tears with his big rough thumbs.

“Tetsurou, listen.” His voice sounded muffled, maybe because Tetsurou’s crying had turned into hiccups from trying too hard to breath through the tears. “I’m right here. You’re safe with me. You know that. Do you need to scream? You can. When I’m mad I always feel like screaming.”

Tetsurou did. He didn’t feel safe even if he knew he wasn’t alone. He felt that if Koutarou would just stop touching him, if he would just stop talking to him, he would cease to exist completely as far as Tetsurou would know and the thought terrified him. It terrified him to realize his world wouldn’t be the same as other people’s world anymore, that he would feel it differently. And though that wasn’t an entirely bad concept, it still made him feel afraid. Which was a feeling he barely even knew.

His angry cries ripped through the morning quiet and seemed to disturb the entire house. Paradise wasn’t meant for pain and it was displeased to feel it thrumming through one of its inhabitants. Koutarou shifted to hold him from behind, his right hand splayed against his heart, Tetsurou was sure he could feel how it was thumping out an irregular tune. Koutarou rocked them softly and this, albeit weird, made him feel calmer, like when he was floating on the ocean, letting himself be carried and lulled.

“Tetsu, come drink some water.” He heard the other man say, taking his hand and pulling him up, guiding him through the kitchen. 

The kitchen was just a few steps in front of where their bed was, pushed up against a wall near the ground to floor window, the morning sun warming the white sheets when it came ripping through the sky. 

Tetsurou mapped this out in his head, reached out his hand to feel out the chairs, hopped one of them to pull the other, his usual seat, he recognized and sat. The smell of toast was wafting through the air from next to him. Koutarou had been having breakfast. He brought the water which Tetsurou sipped slowly, feeling the knot in his throat subside but still feeling twisted up inside, belly churning with unwanted feelings. A sentimental crap storm. He was blind now, so what? He could be worse off. He could be dead. Subconsciously, he brought his hand up to the round scar tissue on his left temple. It felt ugly. It looked ugly too. But Koutarou kissed it, kissing his fingertip which was on the way, and it made nothing better but it was a small and gentle gesture that Tetsurou appreciated nonetheless.  _ I love even the ugly in you _ , is what it said, and it must be true. 

They got to start fresh in Paradise island, they let themselves be this new person but that didn’t annihilate the part of them which was murderous, cunning and ugly. Tetsurou could still kill someone with his bare hands if he needed to but he learned his hands were good for other things. Like sifting through the cold sea water, tearing a ripe mango fruit apart, holding Koutarou’s face as they kissed, squeezing the tiny sand shards in his hand and feeling them slip through his closed fist. He lived for these new feelings, things he never got to experience because his place was in a dark office giving orders, making plans, shooting people on occasion and conducting a business. And businessman just don’t have time for those kinds of things. But for all purposes, Businessman Kuroo Tetsurou was dead. And now he lived alone with Koutarou and it was the strangest thing how they got here and even the way they felt about each other seemed unbelievable, mostly because Tetsurou never thought he’d get to feel things like love or ever get to be gentle with someone. Again, wasn’t on the job description. According to his calculations, he should have died long ago and never have gotten a chance at...a normal life, he supposed.

Koutarou came back to stand next to him with a fresh mug of coffee. He drank it every morning but today, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. The other man pulled his chair back and turned it around so they were facing each other. Koutarou dropped down to his knees and placed his hands on Tetsurou’s thighs, just above his knees.

“Tetsurou. I’m not quite sure how to make this better but…” He brought Tetsurou’s right hand to touch his soft lips. They were slightly wet and Koutarou kissed his fingertips right before placing Tetsurou’s other hand on the side of his face. Tetsurou felt the smooth skin there, remembering the deep tan that had started to adorn Koutarou’s skin. He let his hands roam, to the back of his neck, lacing his fingers with the soft hair strands and pulling, hearing the familiar sound Koutarou made when he did it. Tentatively, he leaned down and much like always, Koutarou met him halfway, pressing their lips together gently.

“Do my eyes look weird?” He asked when they pulled apart.

“Their just your eyes. The same color as always. Look the same to me.” Koutarou told him and he wanted to believe it was sincere, so he did because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being any other way.

 

 

Two weeks had passed, mostly without a hitch, since Tetsurou had seen (ironic use of words) his world plummet into nothingness. Except, it wasn’t quite like that. He would often see before his eyes sparkling shapes or bright flashes of light, sometimes like the way the rays of sunshine sparkled on the ocean water, the memory still brightly burning at the front of his mind, other times like a camera’s flash. It felt weird to see these things but it comforted him to know he wasn’t in complete darkness, after all.

Two weeks and Koutarou scarcely ever left his side. This morning though, he woke up and ran his fingers through Tetsurou’s hair, waking him up slowly to warn him he would be going out to buy them bread because they were out and he wouldn’t be long. 

“You can go back to sleep.” He said, kissing Tetsurou’s forehead. He’d become annoyingly gentle recently. “Just didn’t want you to be startled if I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

Tetsurou smiled because he appreciated the concern but told Koutarou he could go, he’d be fine on his own. He held his breath to hear Koutarou’s movements: the rustle of the sheets, pulling on his clothes, the pop of his bones when he stretched, muffled by his long yawn, the footsteps growing barely audible, the chime of the house keys, the doorknob turning, the door slamming shut. Tetsurou breathed in deeply before realizing his mouth was feeling rather dry. He reached for the bottle of water he kept next to him on the floor and realized how light it felt, shook it a bit only to make sure it was empty. 

On reflex, he sat up and swung his legs over to the floor but when his feet touched the ground he stopped dead on his tracks. He could wait for Koutarou to come back. But it was just a small trip to the kitchen. He’d done that same path many times, he could surely do it again. 

He visualized the way on his head and got up. Barefoot, he walked around the bed, feeling for the end of it. He would have to walk forward, towards the kitchen island and then from there he would turn left to find the fridge and get to the cold water they kept there. He walked unimpeded until he reached the cold marble of the kitchen island, feeling the edge with his fingertips. He moved his body to the left but without meaning to, unknowing of the glass vase on top of the island, he toppled it over with his elbow, flinching as it shattered around him, feeling a piece of glass stop near his toes. He bent over to pick it up and felt it, it was a small but sharp piece, the way he imagined the others must be, like a mine field around him, waiting to be stepped over. Now, he truly couldn’t move without help, lest he tear the tender skin of his feet apart with the sharp glass shards. He waited, unmoving, for a few minutes. He tried not to let his mind sink into ugly places and feelings of hopelessness and uselessness. Too many razor-sharp objects near him to think such negative thoughts. He was quiet, listening for the turning of the lock and Koutarou’s arrival. Shouldn’t be too long now.  _ Shouldn’t be too long _ , he repeated to himself.

He must have zoned out, he thought, for when he came to he heard Koutarou’s distinct voice asking him what happened and if he was injured, if he was okay, if he had hurt himself. He would have snapped maybe, told him he wasn’t a child, if he didn’t feel so out of it, so distanced from himself. He just stood there, silent, let the other man shake him, but he could be anyone, if it wasn’t for that voice how would he know it was Kou, right there beside him? Then the huge hands left him and he heard the glass hit the back of the dustpan, over and over, until the pieces of the vase were dumped on the waste basket. Assuming he was safe, he walked over to the fridge and felt for the bottle of water on the door. He took it out and gulped down until he felt his thirst was satisfied. He began to walk away, back to bed when a big arm wrapped itself around him and a crystal clear voice spoke close to him.

“You’re bleeding.” Koutarou told him and that’s when he felt the light sting on his left foot. It must be a small wound, he could barely feel it, but he still let Koutarou sit him down at the table and clean his wound, wrapping it up in a bandage which he thought was probably unnecessary but thought better of complaining. Then a kiss was planted on top of the bandage, and another on the skin next to it, and all the way up to his knee.

“Will you stop with the sentimental bullshit and just kiss me?” Tetsurou said, slightly annoyed but amused at the same time. Koutarou didn’t waste time and in a matter of seconds he was seated comfortably on Tetsurou’s lap, who was opening himself up for him, letting their tongues slide together, hungry for the physical contact which set him on edge permanently since he lost his sight completely. It felt like he could never guess what Koutarou’s next move would be and somehow that excited him and made him feel all the more desperate. He wanted to hold him tightly and take him to bed but he was scared to trip, to drop Kou, to kill the moment, to do something as embarrassing as that. So he let himself be kissed dizzy and kept Koutarou as close as he could as the other moved purposefully against him, lighting his nerves on fire. 

There were two powers at play: the one which urged him to dominate Koutarou and turn him into a whiny mess and the other, which told him he could no longer do that because he had lost something and he did not have the power to make his lover cry for more as he used to. He would be damned if he wouldn’t try to get it back.

He nuzzled Koutarou’s neck gently before biting down on his neck, pulling the tender skin between his sharp teeth and hearing how Koutarou screamed for him. “Let’s go to bed.” He said, a dangerous something boiling in the surface of his voice, before he bit down again, lapping his tongue over the marks and loosening his grip when Koutarou moved to get up and take them back to bed.

It was easier to walk when he knew the way, guided by Koutarou. He easily found the foot of the bed and sat down, patting his thigh to get the other to come. He couldn’t see the way Koutarou’s eyebrow quirked at this gesture, mild exasperation at being called like a dog, but he imagined it and smiled devilishly. When he felt the dip of the bed where Koutarou placed his knee, he rapidly hooked a hand on the back of Kou’s thigh and turned him around, effortlessly pinning him down. 

This gave him an unbelievable rush and he smiled to himself before feeling Koutarou’s open mouth with his fingertips, the other teasing him with his tongue, darting out to circle over the sensitive pads of his fingers, the suggestive gesture going right to his twitching cock. 

He pushed his fingers in further, loving how wet Koutarou’s mouth felt, leaning in to replace his fingers with his mouth, sucking on Koutarou’s tongue and tightening his hold on his waist even further, driving small whimpers out of the other, who didn’t even bother to muffle himself, getting off on the way those sounds elicited passionate reactions out of Tetsurou, who ground down on him firmly, their cocks rubbing together, the friction an unbearable tease for both of them but just the right thing they needed in the lazy late morning.

**Author's Note:**

> guys, you ask and i deliver! i really hope it doesn't disappoint! would you like to read more? i'll leave it open for new chapters just in case!


End file.
